MockingBird
by Minnet
Summary: A bunch of random shorts mocking things I've seen fanfics written about. First half of Part Three: Zexion and Riku are average teens, trying to get concert tickets and write poetry, while avoiding smeared eyeliner and frizzy hair. It's an AU, this time.
1. Table of Contents

**S****ummary**: _Mocking Bird_ is where I mock a bunch of different sillies that I see pop up in fanfictions. Mainly, sillies that bug me a little or just sillies that pop up a lot in fanfictions. You know, like Mary Sues, yaoi, AU fics, and all that good stuff.

**R****easons For Table of Contents**: So you can avoid chapters you don't want to read. Ya know, since this is just a bunch of one-shots and short fics, why read ones that you're not interested in? I just thought having a table of contents would help in the navigation of the fic. Ahem.

**P****art One: Good Charlotte Understands You!**

- In which Zexion is being all emo and plays Trivial Pursuit™ with Roxas, Demyx, and Luxord.

_- Warning_: There are many references to cutting, and the end is… well, I don't know. Intense?

**P****art Two: Xemnas Lied About the Whole "No Emotions" Thing**

- In which Axel kidnaps a Mary Sue for reasons yet unbeknownst to the readers.

- _Warning_: Lane Whitaker is a bitchy little douche.

**P****art Two: I Love You, Two**

- Get the pun (or whatever it is)?

- In which Lane finds out exactly what she's needed for.

- _Warning_: I think there might be foul language, but I'm not sure.

**P****art Three: Concert Event of Forever**

-It's an AU.

-In which Zexion and Riku search for a way to go to a concert.

-_Warning_: I'm not sure there's much to be warned about.


	2. Part One: Good Charlotte Understands You

Mmmmm….. This is the beginning of _Mocking Bird_. The first chapter is a one-shot with Zexion being emo. Why? Well… because, I thought it sounded fun. Plus… I put more into my own _Emo Song_.

No, _Kingdom Hearts_ is not mine, and none of the characters belong to me either. What does belong to me? The plot and any rights to the song. Bitch.

* * *

Standing outside of Number VI's room, or anywhere else in Castle Oblivion for that matter, at one time, you would have been able to hear blaring emo music. Zexion's favorite song was on. 

_I got up today_

_And took a look in the mirror_

_Life is so freaking gay_

_No, the answers never get cleaaaaaaarer!_

_Got on the bus_

_Remembered that I'm failing maaaath_

_Everyone makes such a fuss_

_I'm goin' down my own paaathhhh…._

_I hate my LIIIIIIFE!_

_Nothing but torment and STRIIIIIFE!_

_I need to get rid of the pain of LIIIIIIIIFE!_

_Makes me glad that I've got my knife_

_Mom and Dad_

_They don't understand_

_Life hurts so bad_

_It's so plain and bla-ha-haaaaaand_

_Everybody's the same_

_They say I'm always to blame_

_The torment never quits!_

_Everyone is such a BITCH!_

_I hate my LIIIIIIFE!_

_Nothing but torment and STRIIIIIFE!_

_I need to get rid of the pain of LIIIIIIIIFE!_

_Makes me glad that I've got my knife_

(Insert cruddy guitar solo here. During this time, Zexion drew large Xs on the backs of his hands with a black permanent marker.)

_The pressure is buiiiiilding!_

_And it's kil-ling me NOW!_

(Another cruddy guitar solo goes here.)_  
_

_I hate my LIIIIIIFE!_

_Nothing but torment and STRIIIIIFE!_

_I need to get rid of the pain of LIIIIIIIIFE!_

_Makes me glad that I've got my knife_

_I hate my LIIIIIIFE!_

_Nothing but torment and STRIIIIIFE!_

_I need to get rid of the pain of LIIIIIIIIFE!_

_Makes me glad that I've got my KNIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!_

After the exciting finale of the song, Zexion (everybody's favorite emo not really emo member of Organization XIII) leaned back into his pillows and sighed. "There's no song in this world that defines my life better… I'm just glad Bleeding Hearts Parade exists, otherwise my life would be even more miserable," he said to his precious hamster Milton, who was then running around on his little wheel-thing and completely ignoring Zexion. "Yes, Milton… run faster."

The (rather short) Nobody rolled over onto his stomach and closed his eyes. "I wonder what I can do today…" he said into the pillow. Zexion laid there in thought for nearly six minutes, before he came upon a wonderful idea. "I know…" the boy said morosely. "I can bleed my sorrows out through my wrists and pour the feelings of my black heart onto a piece of paper in a serenade of broken emotions…" He then rolled onto his back, sat up, and got off his bed. Going over to his desk, he pulled his notebook out and sat down with pencil in hand. "Now… how am I feeling today…?" The Cloaked Schemer thought for a moment. "Ah, yes, I feel as though I hate Axel… that jackass… Always calling me short… teasing me! Makes me want to cut myself just thinking about it!" he slammed his fist down in anger after saying this. "So… I shall write about hatred… Where to begin? O, I know!" He moved his hand to the top of the paper, and wrote, rather darkly, and underlined the title of his poem:

**Hate**.

"Hate… is a worrrrd… Much like a… birrrrd," he spoke, while writing the words. "It always stayyys… never goes (exceptinthewinter). Kind of liiiike… water flowsssss…" at that point he heard a brief knock at his door and looked down at his poem, wide-eyed. "I'll finish you later," Zexion told the poem, then started yelling at whoever was behind his door. "I'm _coming_! Just a min_uuute_!" While walking to the door (after he stashed his notebook safely away under his mattress), the boy realized he was about to open his room sans makeup. O noes! Quickly, he ran into his bathroom, outlined his eyes with the soft, charcoal colored kohl of the pencil and stashed it and a compact in his hood. There was another, harder knock on the door. "I **said** I was coming, so hold on… you insolent bastard," he muttered the end of the sentence. He finally made it over to the door and opened it, only to find Demyx on the other side. "O… it's just you… What do you want? Your very presence depresses me," Zexion drawled, bored, as Demyx just grinned his idiot grin.

"Nothing, Zexi! I just wanted to come cheer you up!"

"Well, you're doing one Hell of a bad job at it…"

Demyx slung his arm around Zexion's shoulders and pulled him out of the doorway, closing the door all the while. "C'mon, Zexion, you gotta learn to have a little fun… to cheer up!"

"I'll learn to cheer up once you get your arm off of me and leave me alone… I'm too depressed to go on," the shorter Nobody said, putting the back of his right hand to his forehead in an attempt at being dramatic. Demyx looked at him and stuck his tongue out.

"O Zexi, you're so silly!" he informed his would-be friend and grabbed his wrist. "Let's go! We're gonna play Trivial Pursuit™ with Roxas!" the blonde shouted gleefully and started running, pulling Zexion after him.

"But I _hate _this game… I always lose!" said Zexion, stumbling over himself to keep up with the insanely giddy Demyx. "What'd you have for breakfast today to make you so hyper?"

In answer, the other just looked back and grinned. "Pure brown sugar!" Ya know, 'cause eating plain, white sugar would be weird. Zexion palmed his face and struggled to keep up while inwardly yearning for his razorblades.

**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**

The game of Trivial Pursuit™ was raging with excitement, as Luxord and Axel looked on, placing bets on who would win. Currently, Luxord was winning by betting on Roxas, because Zexion was too depressed to win (or, at least, that's what he told Axel).

"What the Hell! Why am I not winning?" moped The Cloaked Schemer, as he watched Roxas collect another game wedge thingy, taking him one step closer to winning. All he had left to do was make it to the center of the board and correctly answer the last question..

"Beeecause you suck?" Axel interjected rudely. He received a teary-eyed sad face from Zexion.

"Just go, Zexion. You've no chance of winning if you choose not to roll the die," advised Luxord. Demyx just giggled maniacally, while Roxas watched, obviously pleased with himself and smirking. Number VI sighed, picked up the die, and dropped it. One. He moved the die to the left one space and landed on the category "Art & Literature" and smiled.

_I hope it's some sort of question about Edgar Allen Poe! I know his works the best!_ Zexion thought to himself. Roxas reached into the card box, looked at the question, and smiled again.

"'In the short story _The Cask of Amontillado _by Edgar Allen Poe, what are the last words Montressor says to Fortunado'?" he asked, reading the card. Zexion smiled wildly, causing his eyeliner to seep into the creases beneath his eyes. He realized this after grinning, for he usually didn't smile because of this fact, and pulled his compact and eyeliner out of his hood. "Umm… what are you _doing_?" Roxas asked the question everyone had on their minds, as they all watched Zexion.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm making myself look pretty for when I win," he informed, applying even more eyeliner, and causing himself to look like a raccoon. He then snapped the compact shut and once again placed it and the eyeliner back into his hood. "Now, where were we? Ah, I remember… I was just asked a question about Edgar Allen Poe, wasn't I?" Zexion asked, his voice dripping with both sarcasm and pride. "I believe the correct answer would be "_In pace requiescat!"."_

"Wrong."

"…what?"

"I said you were wrong," replied The Key of Destiny, grinning wickedly.

"But how can I be wrong? I've read that story at least seventeen times! The fate of Fortunado is what I wish on all of you! How can I be wrong?" he shouted in confused disbelief.

"Well… you were wrong, so stop whining. The correct answer is "May he rest in peace!" Get with it, Zexion," teased Roxas.

Zexion looked around at everyone with wide eyes. Demyx giggled. Roxas smirked. Luxord wore a grin of triumph. Axel looked scorned (for now he knew he would lose the bet), but still held a look of satisfaction. _They're all… out to get me… They all wanted me to lose!_ thought The Cloaked Schemer. "That's wrong, though! What I said means the exact same thing in _Latin_! It's the direct quote from the story! I'm right! I'm right! I'm right!" he whined, kicking his feet against his armchair and pounding his fists into the arms of it.

"Whoa, kid. Settle down! You're acting worse than Demyx!" Axel said to him, but was ignored.

"_Errrrrrr_! I hate my life! I was right! I should win! You all suck!" shrieked Zexion, beginning to cry. Demyx giggled insanely some more.

"Zexi, Zexi. If it means that much to you… then you can be right! And you can have three wedges! A--And we'll even overlook the rules and let you go to the middle with three instead of six!" Roxas offered, trying to get him to calm down. Zexion just looked at him with an expression of pure hatred.

"**No**… I **hate** you!" he hissed, smacking Roxas's hand away, and knocking the multi-colored wedges on the floor. "This game sucked! I knew I should have stayed in my room! Demyx, you're a stupid whore! Never pull me out of my room again! I hate you all!"

"Hey man, you came with me. I didn't do anything!" said Demyx in his own defense.

"Shut up! You're stupid!" Zexion yelled some more, before jumping out of his armchair and uplifting his side of the board, over-turning it and ruining the game completely. The surrounding Nobodies gasped. "None of you understand me! **Nobody** understands me!" he shrieked as he ran out of the den to his room. Get the pun?

"That's not true!" Xigbar's voice could be heard drifting out of one of the many corridors of the first floor. "**_Good Charlotte_**understands you!"

"_I hate you aaaaaaaalllll_!" Zexion could be heard screaming before he was out of earshot.

The remaining Nobodies in the room just stared, dumbfounded, at the door that Zexion had just stormed out of. "Great job, Roxas. You always gotta make him cry, dontcha?" Axel asked sarcastically. The small group of Nobodies fell silent.

"So… Who's up for a game of cawds?" catechized Luxord. Sorry, but I **had **to use my new favorite word.

**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X  
**

Back in his room again, Zexion had just finished another suicide note. "There. That's the last one I'll ever have to write, because this time… This time I **end it**."

The note read:

_Dear Everyone,  
_

_I've decided that I hate you all. Today, Roxas and Demyx, both finally pushed me over the edge again. I won't really miss you, and I know you won't miss me. Xigbar was, right; Good Charlotte understands me, but no one else does. I'm listening to _Hold On_ while writing this, hoping that someone might actually come and help me, no matter how much I doubt they will. I'm leaving my hamster, Milton, to Xigbar, because he reminded me of the ones that really know how I feel. And, because I know he'll take care of him well. I hope you all find your hearts, that way, you'll understand how exactly I felt when I wrote this. Goodbye everyone._

_Bloody kisses from my cyanide lips,_

_Number VI; The Cloaked Schemer; Zexion_

When he finished with the note, Zexion walked into his bathroom and turned the hot water in his bathtub on. He opened the cabinet behind his mirror and looked at his menagerie of razorblades that lined the shelves. Yes, the whole cabinet was devoted to his razorblade collection. He had two inch ones, extra sharp ones, razorblades signed by both his heroes, Sonny Moore and Gerard Way, and, of course, Joel Madden's razorblade that he used while writing the lyrics to the song _S.O.S._ in blood on his bathroom wall. Ya know, before he decided it'd make a wonderful song and decided to write another wonderful album instead of another wonderful suicide note. The Nobody didn't choose any of these, though. He chose his first razorblade ever. The one that he first cut himself with back when he was still Ienzo. Of course, that was a complete and total accident, as he was just using it to cut some frayed strings off of his coat sleeve; that happened before he became emo.

Seeing that the bathtub was almost overflowing with water, once he'd chosen his razorblade, he turned the water off. He taped his newest suicide note to the mirror and sat in his bathtub, still in his Organization uniform. The feeling of the water soaking his clothes and warming his skin was a sensation he'd felt numerous times before.

"Goodbye… cruel world," he said to, well, the cruel world as he raised the razorblade into the air, mesmerized as the light danced along the edge of the blade. He pulled his sleeves up his arms and brought the razor down into his flesh, making random slash marks all across the inside of his left arm. For some reason, though, not being able to bleed still surprised him. "What the Hell? _Not again_… Why does this always happen to _meeeeeeee_?" he whined, remembering that Nobodies didn't bleed. "I hate my life…" Zexion mumbled as he leaned his head against the back of the tub, and tried his hardest to cry. He spent the rest of that day (night) in the bathtub, pondering his existence and hating his life, like any other truly emo kid would.

**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**_x_**X**

**The End.**

* * *

This took forever! Yeah, like two weeks. And I'm not even too happy with it. Hopefully, my next one shot of this series will be better. 

If you see any mistakes, such as grammar spelling, etc, alert me please.

And a review or two would be nice. Those are always appreciated.

Sorry, very sorry, if I offended anyone with all the emo-ness and all the suicide stuff. I don't mean to. This whole thing was written completely in jest and mockery of Zexion being emo. **No offense intended. **And, I'm sorry to any Good Charlotte fans that may be insulted about the whole Joel Madden thing. I'd be sorry to him too, but he'll never read this, so I can't be. I'm also sorry if you're offended because you couldn't handle the jokes, too.

If you're wondering about the whole 'bloody kisses from my cyanide lips' thing, a wannabe emo girl I know used to sign her journal entries with that. **Lame.**

_Emo Song_ © me.

Credit for the whole "serenade of broken emotions" quote describing Zexi's poetry goes to Guavi. xD


	3. Part Two: I Love You, Mary Sue

The second installment of _Mocking Bird_ will have an… OC. And not just any OC, either, but a Mary Sue!

Thank you to all the reviewers from the last chapter. The support and kind words are greatly appreciated, and they motivate me. Well, not really… otherwise, this would have been out sooner. D

This chapter may just include: exaggeration, sarcasm, sarcastic glorification of characters, more exaggeration, a Mary Sue, cliché plotline, teen angst, Nobody's having feelings, and much, much more.

Damn right there will be OOCness. I'm writing sarcastically here, after all! Jeez, get with it.

* * *

"O my gawd! I hate you! I hate my life!" Lane Whitaker shrieked at her mother, while slamming the door to her dark, depressing room and locking it. Her mother had just taken away her cell phone for no apparent reason; ya know, other than the fact that she got a _B+ _on her grade card. So totally the end of the world. Lane sighed and flumped down on her bed, sending her beautiful, shoulder-length (but flowing) golden brown hair into the air in shimmering waves, as the light emitted from her flickering ceiling lamp danced off of every strand. Closing her deep azure eyes in sadness, she rolled onto her back.

"Why did you give me such a horrible life, Gawd?! Everyone hates me, nobody likes me--ya know, other than the entire high school student body wanting to be just like me or wanting to get with me… but that's beside the point. I wish I'd never been born!" Lane sat up and began braiding her hair, a nervous habit she'd picked up after her daily beatings from her father when she was but a child. She was now almost eighteen, the perfect age to star in her very own fan fiction. Cough.

Anyways, once she'd braided her hair into cornrows, she heard a "swooshing" noise in her closet. Her large eyes, that turned gold when she was frightened, widened until they were the size of saucers, as she fixed her gaze on the closet. "He-Hello?" Lane asked the closet nervously. There was no answer, other than the perpetual swooshing noise… and not-quite-deep male laughter. Suddenly, the flickering light overhead stopped flickering, or radiating any kind of light for that matter, sending her room into an even darker and more depressing state. She let out a short, high-pitched squeak that would have shattered crystal, and scooted to the headboard of her bed, knees clutched. "G-Get… get away! Just l-leave me alone!" the voluptuous young woman told the closet shakily, while tears streamed down from the corners of her eyes.

More laughter, but this time… a man's voice. "Aw, don't cry. I'm your _friend_," it taunted in its strangely feminine manner. Then, the doors of the closet burst open and black mist blew out with the wind created by the sudden movement. An impossibly thin, tall, shadowy, hooded (how many more adjectives can I place in a row?) figure seemed to float out of the closet, as if suspended on strings from the ceiling. Motionless, except for it-well, _his_ slow advance on the girl.

Somehow, someway, her eyes widened even further, to the point that they were nearly falling out of her perfectly shaped visage. "Ge-Get away from me! Get back!" she shrieked, in the most Wendy Torrance-like voice she could manage.

A menacing chuckle. "I said not to be afraid," and more laughing, as the 'man' stopped at the foot of the bed. Bending forward to, most likely, peer out of his hood at her, he giggled in his intriguingly girlish manner. "Yes… this is the one specified." He walked around to the side of the bed. Lane was petrified with fear, so she didn't move away even when he was standing two feet from where she was sitting on the bed. Reaching out one gloved hand, he grabbed hold of her wrist and began yanking her toward the closet, which was exactly when she chose to respond to his presence in the room, ya know, aside from shouting "Get away!" and the like.

Lane twisted and thrashed about, trying to free herself from the dark man's grip, but resistance was futile. She planted her feet against the ground and pulled back, hoping she'd be able to free herself, but he just laughed and tugged her along, closer to the closet. Realizing that struggling wouldn't help anything, as they inched closer and closer to… the closet, she dropped to the floor and began crying and screaming. "NoooooOOOooo! Please! Noooo, noo! I don't wanna be… RAPED!!!!"

At that point he stopped in his tracks, threw his head back, and laughed uncontrollably. In fact, he was laughing so hard that he bent forward a little, due to his stomach hurting, and needed to support himself using a dresser that was conveniently placed at his left. It held all of Lane's cheerleading, academy, basketball, volleyball, any other kind of ball, and academic awards and trophies on its surface. Of course, it wasn't nearly large enough to hold them all, so the rest she stored in several boxes under her bed. Anyways, the hooded man turned his head and looked down at the crying girl. "O, please, kid. If I wanted anything like that from you, what would happen would be nothing _near _the definition of rape," he replied, with more laughter following. Then, with a few final quick tugs and some kicks to the girl's arms (when she latched onto things), the man pulled her into the black portal in her closet, leaving no trace of Lane Whitaker behind… aside from some tear-stained pillowcases and her numerous trophies.

**X**

Upon entering the dark portal in her closet, Lane blacked out… or she thought she did, at least. For, from that point until when she "woke up", all that she could remember was darkness and being carried.

**X**

When she did wake up, or what she considered being awake, Lane found herself on a deep red couch, in the center of a rather large room of atrociously matched reds and cream carpeting. She lifted her head off the arm and looked around; there was no one in sight. Instead of getting up and leaving right away, she rested her head on the couch, again, and waited a few minutes, while humming loudly and then singing some horrid pop song, checking to see if anyone would come. When no one did, she got up off the couch and walked to the door. Quietly, she opened it and peered outside the door.

On either side was the extension of a rather long hallway, each end turning abruptly into a new hallway. Walking towards the right, the hallway turned right in… well, a right angle, and the left turned left in, strangely, a right angle. She didn't know which way she _should _go, so she played eenie-meenie-miney-moe and ended up going to her left.

The hall was silent as she walked along, her new, in-style, high-top, classic black Converse plopping against the white marble floor as she went. Each "plop" echoed just the tiniest bit in the completely marble hall. The silence began to freak her out, so she stopped next to a large window of clouded glass. Through the window she could tell it was night outside, even if there was a white mist on the glass. She sighed… and that echoed too. The reverberation of the sigh on the walls, floor, and ceiling shocked her into a state of isolation and loneliness. Where were the other people? The thought of everyone else being gone and she being completely alone scared her even more, and she got that feeling of being watched. You know, the one you get when watching a horror movie all alone.

Looking over her shoulder to make sure no one really was watching her, Lane began to walk again. At first slowly, and then she was running. Back in high school, by the way, she was the best runner on the cross country team, so she made it down that hallway pretty damn fast. As she was rounding the corner, Lane looked over her shoulder again, and when she looked back her she saw a black, hooded figure and then her face was met with black leather and a very toned, sexy man-chest.

"Holy fu--" was all that he got out before she hit and they toppled to the floor.

The way that they landed didn't exactly look like they had only run into each other. It looked just a tad bit cliché, too. _Just_ a tad bit.

Lane lay with her torso between the man of black leathery-goodness's legs, face laying against his, as stated prior, toned, sexy man-chest. She lifted her top half up, arms on either side of his body and looked at him. He was just hoisting himself up a little, so as to get a good look at what just happened. The hood he had been wearing was thrown back from his head, displaying a **shock **of long, spikey red hair. His face was thin with sharp edges on his chin and cheekbones, and he wore eyeliner and had blue, inverted teardrops tattooed under his eyes. The man was strangely attractive to Lane, and he really stimulated her libido. A blush came into her cheeks.

He smiled devilishly, looking at the girl that lay on top of him. "Yeah, kid, you only wish." With a look of disgust, she pushed herself off of the disturbingly feminine, yet oddly sexy man, and sat back, with her legs folded under herself. "Aww… don't go. I was perfectly comfortable where we were… well, maybe I'd be a little more comfortable if we were in my room… but, uh, by all means, come on bac--"

"Ugh! Shut up! You're sooooo distasteful and disgusting," the girl said, even as she tried to fight off the blush that was coloring her cheeks. She stood up. "You could never get a girl in bed with you!" and then she began to walk off.

"O, pleeeeeeeeease! With my toned, sexy man-chest? I could get any girl in bed! And you're just proof of it… I saw the look on your face when you were on top of me," the man said, smirking, then laughing in a mocking manner. For someone so sexy, he certainly was a prick.

She began walking away in the direction she had come from, and then stopped and turned around to reply to his comment. "Yeah, right! You're just some dirty old pedophile. Guh-ross-uhhh!"

Shocked, the mysterious man just stared at her with a wide-eyed expression for a little less than half a minute, and she just stared back, wondering why he was staring at her. Maybe it was because he just realized that he loved her? She could see the goodness behind that cold, perverse front of his! Then he broke the silence and destroyed her daydream. "Pardon me… but, uh, did you just turn a single-syllable word into a three-syllable word?"

"…I **might **have," she replied, seething with anger and rage and fury and outrage and all those other words that mean simply mean "mad". With that, she turned on her heel and began walking down the hallway. Unbeknownst to her, however, he had disappeared from where he was. Suddenly, a dark portal, swirling with black and purple energy? mist? pudding? opened ten feet from where she was and the same man walked out. Her eyes went wide with surprise and turned purple, because they did that when she was incredibly surprised. "B-But… you were ju-just…?"

Again, he smiled. "Going my way?" he asked, then grabbed her wrist tightly and dragged her to the room she was held in before and shoved her through the door. "Do not leave without my consent. If you do, bad things will happen." Her eyes widened into fearful, golden saucers again. "And, no! I'm not going to rape you, because I know that's what you're thinking. Jeez, some kids _never_ stop thinking about sex."

Stomping away from him, fists clenched, Lane flumped down on the couch she was on before, crossed her arms, and stared at nothing in particular. "O, yeah… like _you_ have any room to talk… Dirty pedophile…" she mumbled to herself angrily.

"Riiiiiiight, because in life, I was hardly five years older than yourself… and you're almost eighteen. Shut up, don't make noise, and don't leave. Not that you'll be able to, though, the door is locked this time." With one last smirk and a wink, he opened one of his dark portal-thingies and left.

After a few moments of silence, she let out a very (sexually?) frustrated sigh and kicked the backs of her feet against the couch. "That bastard! What the Hell am I supposed to do for who knows how long?" In her rage, Lane Whitaker screamed. It was so high-pitched and irritating, that the screen of the television that the couch was facing cracked, and so did the glass top of the coffee table that was between the couch and the telly. Upon seeing the destruction she had caused, Lane smiled evilly. "That's right, you dirty old man… that's what you get for imprisoning me!" And then she wept tears of sadness, because I guess that's what helpless female characters are supposed to do when locked up.

**X**

Lane cried and screamed and kicked the couch for around an hour before anyone came. And when someone did come, it was a young, blonde man, also wearing a black leather coat, with a rather odd hairstyle. It looked like a cross between a mohawk and a mullet. A mul-hawk? He arrived by coming through a dark portal, like the feminine, perverted guy with the toned, sexy man-chest did.

"What are you crying about?" he asked with great concern.

When she heard the semi-nasally voice of the young man, Lane looked up, surprised… so her eyes were purple. Her luscious locks of golden brown hair fell in front of her tear-stained face, giving her the appearance of any other angst-filled teenage girl that couldn't get a date to prom. Not that _Lane_ would have trouble getting a date to prom, though. "Who… (sniff) who are you?" she asked him in the mopiest, saddest voice she could muster.

The boy shrugged nonchalantly and smiled a goofy smile. "No one important. What _is_ important, though," he began and sat on the end of the couch, opposite her, "is why you're crying. Why? You can tell me, I **care**. Even though, technically, I'm not supposed to have feelings because I'm just the shell of my former self, but that's beside the point."

Smiling a little from the comfort, and the fact that she didn't understand what he meant by the last sentence at all, she began to speak. "O, you know… Nothing important. It's just that some red-haired, creepy, sexy, girly guy kidnapped me from my abusive home, which sounds like a vacation, but it's really not. No way. He kept making all these sexual comments to me and being a real jerk. I think he's a pedophile."

With that, the boy burst out laughing in a rather nasally manner. "Omigosh, that red-haired, creepy, sexy, girly guy has gotta be Axel. No one else in the Organization fits that description. He must _really_ like you if he's already making sexual comments," he said, as if they were having some kind of messed up form of 'girl-time' in a parallel universe.

"WTF? Yeahhhhhhh, that really shows that he likes me. Jeez, the guys at school just gave me candy. I mean, I always threw it away, thoughcouldn't let my perfect body get fat, ya know, otherwise I wouldn't fit into my size one prom dress."

"Not that you'll have to worry about that **now**, though!" The blonde guy and Lane looked towards the door, where a very cocky looking "Axel" stood. "Demyx! Get the Hell outta my room," he ordered, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the door to make his point clearer.

"But… but, she's such a nice girl! Why do I have to go? Why does sh--" Demyx began whining, but was cut off.

"Shut up, Demyx. You know that if we let her live, she'll find _him_ and they will eventually de--"

"Yeah… I know… But, it's not fair. It's not as if we chose this life for ourselves. I mean, really, if you had the choice, would you…" the blonde began, but then stopped.

"Umm, yeah, hi! Right here! What are you guys talking about? Who is this 'him' guy that you mentioned?" came the beautiful sound of Lane's voice, drifting from the far corner of the tear-soaked sofa she and Demyx were sitting on. The two men turned to stare at her, eyes wide with fear, and then the one known as Demyx looked back to Axel.

"I guess you're right, Axel… I'm sorry Lane, but I gotta go. I have my, um, duties. See you later…" but the last part came out as more of a sad, sad question than a statement, despite it lacking a question mark. A black portal opened beneath the blonde and he sunk through the couch to wherever it was that he was going. Lane looked at the place where Demyx had just been sitting, and tears sprung into her eyes. Her new friend disappeared as quickly as he had come into her life.

Her eyes quickly shifted to the man of black leathery-goodness, a.k.a. Axel. Being alone with him made her head spin, but it also made her want to cry; what did he mean by if she found 'him' she would de…? What was he trying to say before Demyx had cut him off? He moved toward the couch where she sat. Remembering the night before, or whenever it was when he first kidnapped her, she scooted over all the way into her corner of the couch and whined a little.

"What? Do you think I'm going to _rape_ you?" he asked and then cackled. She looked up at him with golden eyes, filled with fear. "Again, please." Axel rolled his eyes. "Get up, you have a date that you won't want to miss."

"I hope to Gawd it's not with you, I might get raped!" she retorted, standing up and glaring at him. "I'd hate to get raped by an old man."

"Why is it, that, in RPGs anyone over twenty years old is considered an old man? I'm only twenty-three, physically! Who the Hell wrote these rules?!" he asked in outrage, throwing his hands into the air.

Lane shrugged. "Wut teh fuh is an RPG?" This earned her a glare from Axel, and he grabbed at her wrist with his spindly fingers. "Don't touch me, dirty old man skank! Ahhhh! RAAAAAAAAPE!!!!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs, causing him to slap her, leaving a large red mark on her perfect, clear, milky skin. Really, who doesn't want to smack a Mary Sue?

"Don't scream, you waste of sperm. Do you really want to bring Saïx up here?" The clueless expression on her hurt face reminded him that it wasn't Demyx he was yelling at, it was… some kid that he was strangely attracted to? Because Mary Sues are just so damn sexy, so everyone with even an ounce of testosterone pumping through their veins _must_ love them. "Forget that. _Just come on_," he said impatiently and opened a portal. As he was about to walk through, she, being the domineering little bitch she was, pushed him out of the way and walked through. His shock lasted only a few moments. "Holy shit… I think I'm in love! Xemnas **must** have been lying about Nobodies not having hearts and not being able to feel! That bastard!" he said to Nobody in particular, and then walked through the portal himself.

* * *

Well… that was odd. I didn't like it much… because, how can you really be sarcastic about Mary Sues when they're all so… pre-exaggerated? It's too hard for me. I even tried reading up on how to make a really bad Mary Sue, but how can anyone with any working brain cells read that crap?

Yes, there will be two parts to this specific part of _Mocking Bird_, because it's cool like that. No, it wasn't too funny, either. But, hey, I've got other things to worry about… so yeah. I hope it was enjoyed at least a little bit. :D

Man... those comments about Axel's "toned, sexy man-chest" are the only things that kept me writing this. I don't know why, but that made me laugh to no end.

I only wish I had a darkness portal in my closet.

I command you to review me, you bitches! Or, ya know, don't?


	4. Part Two: I Love You, Two

Omgosh, I think I might be starting this chapter. There's really not enough space for me to build a relationship on, but, hey, I'm writing a Mary Sue fic here. So please.

Being the fangirl I am, I really enjoyed writing that part about Axel's toned, sexy man-chest. Thank God I can control my thoughts and don't believe in self-insert stories. Damn, otherwise I'd write a bunch.

Just my little bit of fangirlness. There is OOCness. Get over it.

* * *

Axel and Lane walked down the passage of darkness in silence. She kept sighing, and folding her arms, and dragging her feet, trying to get him to talk to her and just waiting for the end of the walk. But he seemed to be ignoring her. OMG! How could anyone ignore Lane Whitaker, though? She was the physical embodiment of every teenage boy's best wet dream! Finally, she broke the silence. 

"So, um, _how_ much longer is it until we… um, get to where we're going?" Lane asked, stopping on their trek to wherever it was that they were going. Her eyes turned orange when she was impatient. Jeez, I might run out of colors before this is over.

"So, um, lyke, maybe you should, um, be quiet, because, lyke, you'll know when we there," replied the redhead, imitating Lane's speech patterns and then dropping back into his own accent at the end of his sentence.

For but a moment, Lane Whitaker's eyes turned a red, meaning she was angry, and then they flashed back into their regular (but stunning) blue. "Can I have a translation of that, puhl_ease_?"

Throwing his hands up into the air in exasperation, Axel answered the question. "It means 'please don't talk, because you'll know when we get there.' Got it memorized?" Lane nodded slowly, her eyes turning a red orange color, showing her agitation. "M'kay, then, let's keep walking. We've got a date to keep."

"Ugh! Do you really have to say it like that? I'd never go on a date with you! I'm being forced, 'got it memorized'?" she mocked.

As unamused as he was, Axel couldn't help but play along. "Yeah, I got it memorized. I just can't wait 'til we get to this place. It's great. They've got the most comfortable beds, and satin ribbons and handcuffs and-" at that point he looked over at the girl to see wide golden eyes staring at him, "O, please, don't give me that look, you're the one that suggested this. Or don't you remember? I'm going to rape you!" he said sarcastically.

Lane actually believed him, and fell to the ground, crying. "OooooOooOOOOoo! Whyyyyyy? Why is it always icky old men that want me??" she sobbed.

Axel just rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist, but not roughly. "Get up, and quit your whining. I'm _not_ going to rape you. How many times do I have to repeat myself? I was only joking, kid."

The way Axel spoke was (almost) gentle and (almost) sincere, unlike how he was to her before, yet he was acting as if he was hiding something, holding back from saying something important. Lane remembered what Demyx said about Axel making sexual comments, and how it meant that he really did like somebody (obviously meaning her). She felt herself blushing, but let him pull her to her feet.

"Now, are you okay? Are you feeling better? Ya gonna _cry_ anymore?" he asked, without real care, that somehow hinted that he really did care. However, he didn't wait for an answer, but began walking instead, pulling Lane along by her wrist. "Now, hurry up. And don't look so down. We're supposed to be there soon, and the boss doesn't like to see people looking so down all the time."

"Your boss? We're going to see your boss?" she asked, seemingly excited, yet puzzled at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah, big deal," Axel replied flippantly, waving his free hand back and forth, while still dragging her along. "I'm sure you'll be singin' a different tune once we get to his place, though…" he said quietly and more to himself than to Lane.

Suddenly, Lane stopped allowing herself to be dragged along by Axel, by planting her feet solidly on the ground and ripping her wrist out of his grip. Dumbfounded at her activity, he turned around with a surprised look on his face, obviously questioning what her problem was. And then she responded. "What the _Hell_ did you just say?" she shrieked, but he remained silent, not knowing how to answer her. "Did you just **insult **my singing voice?!"

He placed his palms on his hips, in a manner that only females could pull off. _He _pulled it off quite easily. The fangirls will kill me for this all. "_What_ are you talking about?" Axel asked sharply, eyes narrowed.

Throwing her hands in the air, as if he should know what she was talking about, she sighed, exasperated. "Don't pretend like you don't know! I was talking, exercising my **lovely **voice, and then you made some rude comment about 'singing a different tune,'" she sneered, making a rude face at him and crossing her arms. "I'm sorry if you don't like my voice, but everyone else loves it, so **leave me alone**!" the girl of amazing figure and tragic past screamed. And then Lane promptly began running off in a random direction, trying to put as much distance between herself and 'the icky old pedophile' as she could.

In a scene reminiscent of the first part of the Mary Sue chapter in this set of stories, Lane looked over her shoulder to see if Axel was chasing after her. Upon seeing that he wasn't, she turned her head back around to look in front of her. However, instead of seeing the expanding passage and the familiar black and white thorny tendrils of **DOOM **(i.e. where Xemnas would be killed in the future, har har) far off in the distance, Lane came face to face with a black wall. Well, not really a wall, but a certain Nobody's _toned, sexy man-chest_ covered in a familiar black leather, company-required coat thing. (O, dear, I couldn't help myself.)

As opposed to how the scene went in aforementioned part, however, Axel had meant for her to run into him, and instead of falling down with her on top of him, she just plain fell down, after the reaction force caused her to bounce off of his toned, sexy man-chest. She rubbed her forehead, confused, and then looked up to see what she ran into, and her eyes widened when she saw what it was. "Going somewhere, my dear?" he asked sarcastically, not expecting an answer in the least and pulled her to her feet.

"What are you doing?" she whined, struggling to get away. "Leave me alo-ho-_hoooooooone_!" she began to sob, eyes turning a deeper blue due to sadness.

Axel rolled his eyes, but not before noting how sexy she was when she was in a sobbing state. "I can't leave you alone. If I leave you alone, then I'll get turned into a dusk or something and you'll have a future that's far worse than the one that's already guaranteed. Get me?" Lane nodded slowly, even though she was still far from understanding. "Good. Now get up, and don't make this harder on either of us." Slowly, she got up shakily, and they set off on their way to 'Axel's Boss's Place'; all along the way there, Axel kept noting how hott it was to have her in a submissive state of mind and thinking about hearts and ponies and hugs and rainbows, because Mary Sues have that effect on male characters. Or so I've heard.

**X**

After a forty minute walk of nearly complete silence, aside from Axel's comments about her nice legs, as her miniskirt did a fine job at showing them off, the pair finally reached the end of the corridor/passage/hallway of darkness and evil and doom, where a large portal, swirling with black and purple waited for them. "Well… I guess this is it, then," Axel stated, out of nowhere. "Better get going." He dragged her through.

**X**

Upon arrival at Axel's Boss's Place, Lane noticed several things. The first, that there was sobbing come from down the hallway connected to the foyer, in one of the inner rooms of the Place. The second was that there was a purple and pink glow radiating from the same room as the sobbing. Thirdly was the smell of sweet foods and ice cream. And fourth--was that a Lifetime movie she heard?

As Axel dragged her down the hallway, she recognized the sobbing as familiar, but also noticed that there was the sound of someone comforting the sobbing person. Upon entering the room with the television, Lane made several realizations. The sobbing was coming from the nasally boy from the previous part of this story arc: Demyx. The purple and pink light came from a lamp, set on a table beside the couch where Demyx sat, that had a purple and pink leopard patterned lampshade on it Third was the massive amount of freshly baked cookies and the (almost) empty ice cream carton cradled in the crying boy's arms. The Lifetime movie was _On Thin Ice_, one of Lane's favorites. O, yeah, and some sliver-haired weirdo sat on the couch with Demyx, rubbing his back and consoling him, all while sporting an evil grin.

"It's just… it's just so _sad_," Demyx moped, while shoving a cookie into his face. "The mother, sh-she has to sell drugs… t-t-t-to feed her kids… _O God!!! Life's so rough for this woman!!!_" he sobbed, wiping snot from his nose using his leather sleeve. Not very absorbent.

The silvery-haired man just rubbed his back and talked to him soothingly. "Yes, let it all out Demyx. A good cry never hurt anybody."

Demyx turned and looked at him with big, watery, cutesie, melt-any-fangirl's-heart eyes and spoke. "O, X-Xemnas… y-y-you're the best. You always know just h-how to make me feel bet-tter when I'm down…" he sniffled and smiled a small, nervous smile up at 'Xemnas'.

"Ahem, cough, sneeze, hack, _cough_!" Axel basically yelled at the two on the couch, causing them to look over. When Demyx saw Lane, standing next to Axel and waving with a puzzled expression on her face, he howled with sadness and opened a portal beneath himself, leaking tears from his eye sockets like a broken fire hydrant as he disappeared into the couch.

Lane placed both her hands on her hips. "And just _what_ was all **that** about?" she asked quizzically.

The one called Xemnas rose from the couch. "Ah, you must be Lane, the one I've heard so much about," he stated, clapping his hands together and then spreading them out in front of him, to add meaning to what he said, or something like that. He glanced at Axel. "You were right, she _does_ have great legs."

"Asshole!"

"Yeah, I know. Much better than Larxene's," Axel answered and then turned to Lane. "In answer, that was my boss, Xemnas, makin' Demyx cry by letting him watch a Lifetime movie. It's about the only thing that makes him feel like anything anymore." He shrugged and smirked a little.

"Yeah, okay, whatever. But, hey! Why am **I** here?" she questioned, planting her hands on her hips again, while tossing one hip to the side out of instinct.

"Ah, you're here for a very special reason," Xemnas began, and Axel twitched nervously at Lane's side. "You see," he said, grabbing her wrist tightly, and not gently, as **Axel** had always tried to be, "there's this thing called a _Keyblade_, and you know, we don't really like Keyblades. Because, well, we're not really 'human', as you are." He led her into some backroom with Axel following closely behind; inside the room was a chair that had straps on it, placed in the center.

"If you're not humans," she began, and winced at the pain his grip inflicted on her wrist, "then what _are _you?"

Xemnas turned and smirked at her. "We… are **Nobodies**. In other words, we don't have hearts or feelings or any of that good stuff that you humans have. We don't feel and we don't have consciences. Great, huh?" he asked sarcastically, giving her a dry look. Pulling her farther into the room, he began to speak again. "And you see, Nobodies can't exactly be 'killed' by ordinary mean, oh no, because we don't exactly exist… in a way. We can only be vanquished using the mystical power of," at this point he forced her down into the chair, strapping in the wrist he had already had a grip on, "the Keyblade." Xemnas then took hold of her free (and not to mention fuh-_laiiiling_) arm and strapped it in also.

"What… What are you doing?" she asked, eyes wide and gold with fear, as the silver-haired man took hold of her thrashing (yet _verrrry_ nice) legs and strapped them in also.

"It's a surprise," he basically purred.

Axel, who had been sulking in the doorway since this little scene began, stepped fully into the room, speaking to Xemnas. "Um, Xemnas. Do we really have to do this to her? I mean, it's not guaranteed she'll even meet up with Sora and his team, ya know? Heh.. heh…" he said nervously, scratching the back of his head.

Looking up at Axel, as he tightened the strap on Lane's neck, Xemnas wore a frown. "Well, it's not guaranteed that she _won't_, so I'm not going to take chances," he replied, and looked down only to see Lane nearly suffocating due to him drawing the strap too tightly. "Oopsie!" he said, feigning innocence, and loosened it, allowing the girl to gasp for air. "Now to begin…"

"But, uh, Xemnas… We don't _really_ have to…" Axel began.

"Y-Yeah! The pedo's right! You don't have to do this… whatever you're going to do…" Lane said, rather panicked.

"Okay, maybe you guys are right. Let me think this over… Okay! I've thought it over and decided that I'm still right and we're going to do this, so there!" crowed Xemnas mockingly.

"Nooooooooooo! I luuuuuuuuuuuuve herrrrrrrrrr! You can't _KILL_ her!!" Axel began to sob suddenly, falling to the floor, an emotional wreck. "_Pleeeeeeeeeeeease don't, Xemnas!!!_"

Xemnas just looked down at the man in disgust. "O, get up, Number VIII. Don't be so pathetic. I'll have Vexen bake you cookies if you decide to be good, m'kay?" he pretended to soothe him as he lead him out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Looking around, Lane began to panic even more, now that she was alone. "Help?" she whimpered.

**X**

On the outside of the door, Xemnas was informing Axel of what was about to happen as he ended his sobbing, leaning against a wall and blowing his nose.

"So… nothing really bad, right?" Axel asked tentatively.

"Of course not… wouldn't want to harm a valuable asset to our… team, now would we?" his Superior replied, a hint of malice to his voice. From inside the room, an ear-piercing shriek was heard, and Axel cringed, as the mysterious process Xemnas had just described to him took place. After a minute or two of screaming coming from inside, it stopped, and the noise level lowered by at least two thousand decibels so that the two Nobodies could at least think again. "It's finished."

They entered the room, where a single light shown on the chair in the middle with a figure occupying it. As they walked around to look at Lane, Axel and Xemnas noticed some surprising differences between the new her and the old her. Well, for one, she was wearing an incredibly low-cut Organization XIII leather coat. She was also smiling devilishly. Xemnas jabbed Axel in the side with his elbow. "See? Told ya it'd be for the best…" he whispered.

"So… who's going to free me from my bonds? Or are you guys _in_tothis kinda thing?" the Nobody Formerly Known As Lane asked, seductively.

"We'll free you in a moment," Xemnas began. "But first, what's your name, Number XIV?"

"Call me… Lanex."

"And what's your title, Lanex, and what kind of weapon would you like?" he asked.

"Call me The Promiscuous Wench," Lanex replied, batting her eyelashes. "I'll have a whip as my weapon, of course." She giggled.

Axel was dumbstruck. "I think, Xemnas, that the Organization just got a little bit… naughtier," he said, as he went forward to free Lanex from her bonds.

- - -

**The End (Finally).**

- - -

* * *

Hmmm… Well, that was rushed. And I don't like it, but I'm just glad I finished it, finally! Do you guys know that I put off working on the damned FFA page for my school's yearbook to finish this? No, you didn't. :P Either way. 

Too bad I couldn't put more about Axel's toned, sexy man-chest. Otherwise I would have. How did you like that "The Nobody Formerly Known As Lane" thing? Didja catch the allusion?

I hope you all understood what I was making Lane(x) seem like at the end there. I'll give you a hint. It begins with a D and ends with -ominatrix. But how could you miss it, what with the bondage references and the whip. O wow. Lanex, Xlane? They're both pretty bad.

O, and the Xemnas and Demyx Lifetime movie thing was inspired by Vixen2004, in her story _Repercussions of Femininity._ Go read that; it's very amusing.

Today, I discovered that my guilty pleasure is AxelKairi. Baby. I don't really take a liking to most pairings, but damn, this one's got me. O, and Pop-Ice popsicles are my guilty pleasure, too.

And I should apologize that this is belated, but I'm not sorry. Because I was distracted by two amazing books. _The Shadow of the Wind_ by Carlos Ruiz Zafón. Damn good book. And!!!! _The Shining_ by, none other than, Stephen King. I'm not done with it, but I love it. Man, I've waited over a year and a half to find it, own it, and read it (no good bookstores where I live, dammit). FINALLY!!!!

Ahem. Review? Tell me how disappointed you are. xD I don't care. I just wanted to get onto the AU or the Organization XIV story. M'kay. Bye.


	5. Part Three: Concert Event of Forever

Ta-dah! It's part of Part Three.

Man, that last Part had me sore. Sitting there… for hours at a time, not typing anything due to fear of it sucking too badly to go with the story. Thankfully, this was different for me.

Ahem. This is my funny AU, not the serious one. It's starring Zexion. O! I just discovered this. In the corrections for "Zexion", there is "sexing", and I just found that humorous. One of the corrections for Riku is "rice".

Yes, there will be OOCness. Serious OOCness. I'm writing sarcasm. It's expected.

* * *

"OMIGODOMIGOD!!!" was all Zexion heard before he turned to see his friend Riku running up to him in the hallway at the end of the school day. It was almost the end of their senior year, and he was elated to be getting out of the hell-hole the townsfolk called Twilight Town High School. All the school was, was a bunch of unoriginal losers making fun of him because he liked to wear makeup. At least he was original. But back to the plot that has not yet thickened.

He turned, not in the least bit affected by his friend's giddiness, eyes falling to the tiled floor morosely. "What is it…?" Zexion asked dully and then sighed dramatically.

Riku skidded to a stop in front of him, clutching a magazine tightly within his hands, as if it were a lifeline, the only thing keeping him alive and in the current hell-hole of a world. "Dude," he began, placing a hand on his hip and looking even more feminine than usual, "don't look so depressed. I mean, I know it's in our nature and everything, but damn, school ends in a month… Besides…" he paused, in an attempt to build up the tension and mounting suspense. "I've just found out that…BLEEDING HEARTS PARADE'S LATEST TOUR IS COMING TO TWILIGHT TOWN TO DO A CONCERT!!!!!" he shouted, voice going up an entire octave, while waving the magazine in front of Zexion's face. It was their favorite magazine, Substitute Media, with a picture of the band Black Hearts Parade on the cover, looking as emo as ever.

The eyes of the sulking teen widened and his mouth hung agape. "P-Please repeat that… I'm not sure I heard you right…"

Taking a deep breath and grinning as he had never done before, Riku repeated what he had just said, in the exact same high-pitched, girly voice. Upon realizing that he actually _had_ heard correctly, Zexion shrieked. He shrieked for over a minute straight, in a voice so shrill that all the metal-wire-reinforced glass windows on the doors in the hallway shattered and fellow classmates scattered. The two best friends proceeded to latch onto each other's hands and jump around in a circle, both screaming in excitement.

Once they exhausted their lungs, Riku and Zexion slumped against the lockers they had been standing next to and then looked at each other, still smiling. However, less than a nanosecond after smiling at each other, their grins faded.

"Zexion."

"Riku."

"All that smiling… made your eyeliner smudge. And your hair is no longer covering your right eye. Most likely from the jumping."

"Riku… your eyeliner is also smudged, and your hair has some body to it now. It's no longer seemingly dead and lifeless, lank and straightened… but it's frizzing a little." The pair nodded at each other, acknowledging the information they'd just learned about their own appearances. "Fix ourselves up here in the hallway, or go back to my house?"

Riku opened his makeup bag, that he kept conveniently in his safety-pin adorned messenger bag, and he looked inside. "We should go to your house. My eyeliner ran out this morning."

"Great… My sister just got some new mascara, and I've been dying to try it out on you. It'll make you look great. Plus! I just stole some of her jeans, and I just have to model them for you."

"Sounds like a plan," Riku replied, trying not to smile, even though he was ecstatic. He didn't want his makeup to smudge or smear anymore until he was able to fix it.

**X**

"But how exactly do you plan on us getting money for the tickets?" inquired Riku, applying Zexion's twin's mascara, and then batting his eyelashes at his reflection in the compact he _always_ carried with him. "I mean, neither of us have jobs… we both get everything from our parents--those jeans look fabulous on you, by the way," he said, looking up from examining his eyes to look at Zexion, who had been looking at himself in his full-length mirror.

The other boy nodded. "Yeah, I figured they would. I'm just glad Naminé is the same size as I am, otherwise I'd be stuck wearing… those… evil, denim leg-casings that cater to the norms of society. Ugh…"

"I know exactly what you mean."

"Now… what were you saying before? Oooo, your eyelashes look five times fuller, and twice as long as before."

"Thanks! And, I was just," and Riku sighed before continuing. "I was just wondering how we were going to get money for the concert tickets."

Zexion shrugged nonchalantly, as if the answer was obvious. "The answer is obvious: I'll ask my parents for money. They've got plenty of it to waste, so why not give it to me so that I can die peacefully and almost happy?"

"You mean, your parents pay for both of us?" Riku was now applying heavy amounts of black eyeliner to the rims of his eyes at that point.

"Well, yeah. Why not? I mean, it's _only_ the hard rock festival event thing of the centur - - no, of forever! They _have_ to pay for our tickets, it's as simple as that."

**X**

"How much was that again?" Zexion's unnamed father questioned.

"Only one hundred and fifty dollars. Together, not each ticket." Riku nodded, lank hair swaying with the movements of his head, after his friend spoke.

"No."

"W-What? But this is the concert event thing of, like, forever, or something. Ya hafta!"

"I'm sorry, but with your new brother being delivered last week, and starting you and Naminé in college in the fall, and then with your younger sister's ballet expenses, I'm not going to waste money on sending you and your 'friend' to some concert!" said the father, obviously exasperated.

Riku and Zexion looked at each other, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "Did he just… **imply** something, with the way he said 'friend'?" Riku asked.

"Why yes, Riku, I think he did," replied Zexion, nodding and crossing his arms.

"Did he also just say that spending this money would be a waste?" Riku planted his hands on his hips.

"Yes. He did. Let's get out of here." Glaring at his unnamed father, Zexion, followed by Riku, exited the room. "We're going out!"

The father sighed. "Yeah, but who didn't know that?" he questioned to no one in particular, as Zexion and his companion left the house.

**X**

The two teens walked along the streets of Twilight Town, side by side, in silence, the only sound being the shuffling of their black Converse high-top sneakers on the sidewalk as they dragged their feet. Riku cleared his throat and looked over at his friend and spoke. "So, uh, where're we going?"

Zexion sighed, looking down at his feet and causing even more of his hair to _cascade_ in front of his right eye, and then tilted his head up again to look his friend in the eyes. "The coffee house," he said ominously.

The coffee house he spoke of was infamous in Twilight Town. It was where all the supposedly 'emo' kids hung out in their spare time, and wrote poetry and bought razorblades off the black market. It had no given name, as the sign outside only said something about a coffee house and had a picture of a sheep above the words proclaiming it was where one could buy beverages with loads of caffeine. Even unnamed as it was, the coffee house was highly popular, and word on the street was that the place sold better stuff than the Starbucks over in Traverse Town could ever hope to sell.

At his announcement of where he figured they should go, Zexion sped up a little, now more sure of himself, and Riku quickened his own pace to match his counterpart's. "Hey! Why're you going so fast? Damn… And why the Hell're we going there, anyways?"

Smiling, though half his face was obscured by his hair, and so it was hard to tell, Zexion turned to his friend and spoke. "We're going to write some poetry, drink gourmet coffee, and see about getting tickets for a… discount price."

The other boy gasped. "You don't mean…?"

"I do mean…" The suspense of the moment built, just as Zexion paused dramatically before articulating what they both were thinking. "We're going to see the Dealer."

**X**

The Dealer, as he was known around town, and especially at the local high schools and the coffee house, specialized in getting people the things they wanted. While his name implies that he could be some type of drug dealer, he dealt more in the affairs of emo kids and concert freaks, being able to get them the items they wanted within days and at cheaper prices than Hot Topic™ and other stores and websites sold things. As far as anyone knew, he had no name, as everyone just called him 'the Dealer'.

Upon arriving at the coffee house, the two boys ordered their usual, two medium lattés with French vanilla syrup and a double shot of espresso, plus whipped cream, and sat down in their usual corner booth. Riku pulled two notebooks and two pencils out of his messenger bag: handing one notebook and pencil to Zexion, while keeping the other notebook and pencil for himself. Between sips of caffeine-filled beverage and lines of poetry, Zexion scouted the restaurant for the Dealer.

"Hey, Zexi…" Riku whispered, causing the other to look up from the line he was scrawling onto his current page. "What're you writing your poem about?"

The boy nibbled the end of his pencil eraser and then answered. "I'm writing about how much I hate my parents, especially my dad, because he keeps getting my mom pregnant, so she has to keep having kids and wasting money on dumb things like ballet! Grr!" He promptly stuck out his lower lip and crossed his arms, glaring at his notebook and looking like a young child.

"Wow… th-that's way better than what I'm writing about…" Riku replied, and then looked shamefully at his own notebook, placing his hand over what was written so Zexion couldn't see.

"Well, what're you writing?"

"No… it's embarrassing… My literary prowess could never compare to the beauty of the words that you've written, depicting unfair upbringing between siblings and the favoritism parents show…"

"I knew that already… but, please? At least tell me what it's about, m'kay?" Zexion was basically pleading. He didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings, just because his writing was superior, but he also wanted to support Riku in everything that he did. It's what friends are for.

Riku sighed. "Fine… I'm writing about the dichotomy of good and evil, and at what point one starts taking the low path and veering from their initially good intentions… I was sort of, uh… inspired by the phrase 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions'… heh…?"

Blinking, Zexion smiled at his friend. _Whoa… he was right… that _is_ a terrible subject..._ "Well, um… It's philosophical…?" he said, trying to console his friend.

"It's crap and you know it…" Riku looked down at his notebook and then made a sniffling sound, bangs obscuring his eyes which had filled with tears. Zexion had just begun to pat his friend on the back, when the bells attached to the top of the door jingled, signaling that someone had just entered the building, and the boy looked up. What they were looking for had just arrived.

A tall man had just walked through the door and walked to the counter. He was dressed in a long black coat, similar to a trench coat, yet not as bulky and billowy, and wore black gloves and black combat boots and a black hat, of the fedora family, just as all the other times Riku and Zexion had seen him at the coffee house. The Dealer ordered his coffee and a scone to go with it, paid, and sat in his usual spot: the booth in the darkest corner of the building, where he could easily pass things under the table in exchange for money, without it being _too_ obvious. The word on the street was, however, that he paid the unseen owner of the coffee house so that he could do business there peacefully. But that was just word on the street.

The two watched the Dealer take his drink and scone back to his booth and sit down. He took off his hat, displaying bright red hair, jelled into spikes - - hair that was often the subject of gossip around the coffee house and the high schools of the town. He took a bite of his scone; the two teens, still staring at him, watched as the inverted teardrops, tatooed under his eyes for reasons unknown to the public, bounced up and down each time his jaws collided with each other. Swallowing the bit of scone, the man picked up his mug of coffee and washed the hard bread down with it.

"Most people… most people dip their scones in their coffee," Zexion said nervously, still watching.

Next to him, his friend wiped away the tears that had recently leaked from his eyes, smearing black eyeliner in the process, and nodded. "He must be tough, if he can eat scones without dipping them… hard teeth…" whispered Riku. "Hey, Zexi… Do you think his hair is dyed? I mean… it looks like he has black roots."

"Nah," Zexion replied nervously. "It's probably just the shadows from that corner of the room…" There was a long pause of silence between the two as they just stared at the Dealer, eyes wide. Then, unexpectedly, the man looked in their direction and gestured for the two to come over to him, with a seemingly agitated hand motion.

Zexion looked at Riku, and Riku looked at Zexion. Both swallowed, for they were nervous, and with good reason, with the stories they'd heard about him. They'd never talked to the Dealer before, neither had reason to: their parents bought them everything each owned, regardless of expense. Riku gathered up the notebooks and pens and then stuffed them into his bag, before the two made their way across the coffee house to where the Dealer sat, slouching in his booth. They took the bench opposite him, as he slouched even further down and propped one leg up on his own bench.

The shadows in the corner booth made his facial features look even sharper than they actually were, especially his cheekbones, giving him a rather gaunt appearance. Lighting a cigarette using a silver flip-top lighter, the Dealer pulled the dinged up ashtray toward himself, and inhaled smoke. He held it in his lungs while studying his newest customers, and then exhaled it as he began to speak. "So, uh… Waddaya want? What can _I _get for _you _two?" he asked with a slightly showy flourish of his hand, indicating the two boys sitting across from him.

Riku looked at Zexion and swallowed, waiting for the other to say what he had planned on. Zexion began.

* * *

Laugh out loud. I don't know about you guys, but I love this one so far. I mean, I truly and absolutely love it. Hot damn. I made my sister read the part about the 'literary prowess' and the 'dichotomy of good and evil' (**so** got that idea from one of the _Pirates of the Caribbean _movies… not sure which one)… she didn't laugh as much as I did while writing it, but whatever. That part wrote itself. Srsly. I didn't know how to word it while thinking, so I just started typing and then read over it… and laughed.

So, hopefully, I'll start working on the second part to this soon. I probably will, what with my love for this mini-story so far. I could have made it longer, but I wanted to share it, to share my genius. Right. I just like it and wanted to actually make it longer, to make it better.

OOOOO! This was my first story with no author's comments! It's hard to refrain from those, sometimes, but I feel they take away from the story. Sorry it was short, but it looks longer on my screen. I need to change the margins…

Sorry if anyone is offended. Really, I don't try to offend others. Get that stick out of your ass, they're jokes. And sorry for grammatical errs, for they are far more offensive than anything I wrote. Alert me if you find any!

And review me, dammit! Don't think of that as a threat. I'm only joking. **JOKING**.


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